


Blood of sacrifice

by Seohyun_0306



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Fucking, Hate Sex, M/M, Madara is sad, Madara smokes a pipe after sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Riding, Slow Burn, Tobirama needs to chill, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, bigger human mess Tobirama, human mess Madara, it gets better tho, sex in hokage tower, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seohyun_0306/pseuds/Seohyun_0306
Summary: Tobirama, no matter the price,will always do whatever necessary to protect the peace that Hashirama had finally, painstakingly achieved. The peace built on the bones of his dead kin, on the mangled bodies of brothers too quickly snatched from the realm of the living.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally my first work ever, please excuse any grammar or punctuation errors and enjoy the ride. Updates will be once or twice a week depending on school.This work is very loosely based on an abandoned work on fanfiction.net called "Unconditional Lust", but is in no way a continuation of it.

It was a curse. Seeing things so miniscule and so well hidden as easily as seeing the falling of snow or rain, as easily as seeing the sun rise and set. 

It made his skin crawl. The way that _filth's _eyes would travel over his brother's body, a mixture of lust and adoration so well concealed that it appeared nonexistent to everyone including Hashirama. 

Tobirama, was however not _everyone._

He had known from the first time he saw Madara, even from high up in the tree he was hiding in, the look of love and adoration in his eyes was unmistakably clear. The whole situation would be laughable if it weren't his brother being caught for so long in the sights of the vilest man Tobirama had ever encountered. It amazed him how Hashirama ( and Mito for all her perceptiveness and the whole fucking village for that matter) managed to remain so painfully blind to a truth so obvious. It shocked and worried him how much Hashirama cared for him, many a time more than he did for Tobirama himself. It confused him how Mito would always welcome him into their home with a smile, completely oblivious to the looks of utter contempt hidden carefully behind looks of apathy that were so frequently directed at her.

Regardless of the anxiety and worry inflicted on him by Madara's sick perversions (because honestly what else could it be, knowing Madara) towards his only surviving brother, Tobirama could never bring himself to try and intervene in any form.

He knew how much of bloodshed and war it had taken before Hashirama's dream of peace was even taken seriously and he definitely knew that Madara was the person with whom Hashirama wanted to achieve it with. He would rather silently endure the monster of a man's presence and actions then ruin the manifestation of peace that Hashirama, that **he, ******fought so long and hard to achieve. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my wifeee sidddddd ilysm and enjoy.

Tobirama felt a thin stream of sweat cascade down his back as his ears barely registered the concurrent droning of one of the vast array of bird brained council members present at that day's meeting. He felt his eyes slowly begin to flutter closed and his consciousness beginning to drift, he was however startled back to consciousness by a sudden growl from the unfortunately familiar raspy voice of the one man who revolted him the most. Ordinarily, an outburst from someone during a council meeting even the man in question, particularly on a scorching, dry day like this would be quickly overlooked and soothed, often by Tobirama, with polite words of apology or gratification. Tobirama looked up from the sleeve of his kimono to meet the crimson, enraged eyes of Madara Uchiha.

Dread was what filled Tobirama as he held the gaze of the demonic orbs he'd found himself never growing used to, even after almost two decades of unflinchingly meeting their gaze. He would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed the recent rise in the ever constant pot of simmering rage and aggression that Madara showed to everything and everyone, except of course Hashirama. He'd dismissed it as a side effect of being caught up and heavily involved in the finally fullswing construction of the village he and Hashirama dreamt and fought so long for (a side effect Tobirama himself experienced on occasion), never really concerning himself with Madara's increasing rage. It was Madara after all, mood swings were half his personality. He realized the magnitude of his misjudgement when the sight that met him was enough to send a involuntary shiver down even his spine.

After years of waiting and expecting, his eyes were met with a look that he always knew Madara's eyes would inevitably come to wear.

Barely contained insanity is what he would call it. His breathing quickened by a pace and his eyes grew tighter and colder as he refused to back down from this self inflicted glaring competition with the human personification of a demon.

Another noise startled _Madara's _eyes away from his as Hashirama, sensing the tension cleared his threat in a half hearted attempt to try and deflate a situation that any sane person would define as painfully tense. Just like that, like a thousand times before, any and all humanity Madara possessed was singularly focused on Hashirama, any semblance of the terrifying insanity displayed in his eyes gone as quick as a breath.It confused and worried Tobirama to equal measure, the subtle yet somehow _drastic _changes Madara would display in Hashirama's presence. The gentle, almost undetectable smile that would sometimes see the light of day when Hashirama would animatedly ramble on about his latest plan or idea for the village. The gentle looks of adoration and affection that would fill his otherwise rage or exasperation laden eyes. The looks of yearning that he so desperately sent, when he thought no one was watching, a stark contrast to the looks of barely contained disgust and hatred directed at Tobirama's way, a ramification no doubt of a brother, a beloved brother slain by Tobirama's sword, still Tobirama could never bring himself to feel regret or remorse over Izuna's death. He would have done the same to him if he were even a few seconds to slow. Those were trying times and Tobirama would not insult himself by feeling remorse for something that was necessary for his very survival.

That's where the great Madara Uchiha was wrong.

Tobirama was always watching. Ever since the day at the river. Young as he was, even then had he known the feelings displayed in Madara's eyes towards his brother flowed deeper than friendship. Ever since the peace treaty was signed he had made it a point to be his brother's shadow, now more than ever.

Much to Madara's clear (yet unsurprisingly never verbally expressed) irritation.

His brother's voice startled him out of his thoughts. " I think that will be all for today" said Hashirama, even his usually energetic voice sounded weary, a likely testament to the heat.

As quick as lightning, half the room bounded onto their feet and all but sprinted towards the door ( or window as he bemusedly witnessed one of the Inuzuka do), desperate to escape both the heat and tense atmosphere of the room. The ones polite enough to walk at a respectable speed exchanged hurried pleasanteries before making a beeline for the nearest exit themselves, all until just the three of them remained. With a resigned sigh Hashirama brought himself to his feet, muttered some excuse about Mito and promptly left, Madara follwing suit shortly after with a venomous "_senju" _as his parting words to Tobirama.

Contemplating the worrying events of the meeting for as long as he could without slow roasting to death, Tobirama finally hauled himself up to his feet and began to traverse the length back to his quarters at the Senju compound.

The thing he had feared most was slowly materializing into reality before his eyes. Madara was without a doubt growing more unstable and unhinged everyday. Be it a consequence of a love so long unrequited and unaknowledged or a manifestation of the evil Tobirama always knew was housed deep inside Madara.

Tobirama had to, regardless of his heavy hesitation, intervene in some way before the situation slipped out the grasp of containment. He knew that the day would come. The day where Madara would destroy what Hashirama loved most, trample on his very hope and dream of peace, until nothing but the ashes of what once was remained, as a form of revenge for a situation Hashirama had no fault in. He was an Uchiha before anything else and Uchiha were infamously known for misplacing blame onto those who were _least _at fault.

Tobirama would be **fucking damned, **before he let that happen.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol I apologize in advance for any silly grammatical or spelling errors, I wrote this chapter while I was half dead.Also this is my first time writing Madara so apologies in advance if it's a pile of ooc shite.

Throughout his life, during times of war and during the recent time of peace, sleep was never something that Tobirama had an abundance of. During his childhood, since the time he had barely begun to walk and speak properly, his days and nights were a blurred mirage of his body being subject to wood, metal and bone until he himself became forged of the same steel as his sword. With a father like Butsuma, his sleep and otherwise physical wellness was barely acknowledged let alone considered. Regardless of not being his father's heir, Tobirama possessed the qualities that Butsuma had so yearned for in his offspring,that Hashirama had not. Butsuma wasted no time in exploiting this, desperate for a soldier worthy of carrying the Senju name,a warrior free of hesitation and fear.

Once he learned to read and write, his already minuscule sleep schedule reduced even more. He'd had an insatiable thirst for knowledge of all forms. He'd read scrolls till his eyes burned, till his brain was subjected to the same treatment as his body. He'd furiously scribble down new jutsu till he lost feeling in his fingers, he would memorize documents and seals till his mind _screamed _for mercy. But he would never stop. He **could **never stop.

As months faded to years and Tobirama found himself inevitably caught full swing in the war that claimed his two brothers, his body stopped complaining completely. Now, even with the war ended and a semblance of peace being tangibly achieved, Tobirama could not yet bring himself to sleep through a single night. Whether it was a side effect of his constant worry over the preservation of peace (or about the increased instability of a certain someone possibly affecting said peace) or just simply habit, Tobirama did not know. 

All he knew was that if he read even a single word more his eyes would tumble out of his skull and that if even attempted to train he would likely find himself passed out due to the cursed heat wave currently affecting Konoha. His clothes were already half way drenched with his sweat and the air in his quarters was getting thick and hot. With a prolonged sigh (he was so damn sick of the heat for crying out loud) he slipped on his sandals and made his way out the door. He needed some fresh air, he was damn near evaporating.

* * *

"Fuck," Madara swore as he wiped a rivulet of sweat from his forehead for the upteenth time, his increased heat resistance due to his fire affinity doing absolutely nothing to alleviate his circumstances. It was beyond him how the weather had changed so drastically within the span of a week. He let his mind wander to the years of his childhood, where his grandmother would click her tongue and ominously regard this sudden change as sign, an omen of sorts. He remembered sitting attentively,listening to her raspy voice exclaim how the sudden appearance of hot weather meant, without a doubt that unavoidable change was coming, be it good or bad. 

As he walked down the now quiet streets of Konoha as part of an effort to try to cool himself down he silently took in his surroundings. 

The entire formation of this village was a change. A change from the bloodshed and slaughter. From the destruction of families, of lives. From the death of children barely old enough to speak. He let himself imagine what his grandmother would say, likely something along the lines of " A besmirchment of our clan, a disgrace is what this is." 

His mind then, as it always does (_because how can it not) _travelled to Hashirama. A small smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the giddy look on Hashirama's face as they witnessed the completion of the first building of the village, how Hashirama had enveloped him into an embrace, how **good **it felt to feel his hard, muscular body rub against his even for just a few moments, the very memory making him half hard. 

Madara's heart ached as he starvingly gouged himself on memories and delusions of Hashirama. Even after all this time the harsh reality of his love never being recognized, never being reciprocated, never being _acknowledged, _never hurt any less.

The searing pain in the deepest crevice of his chest everytime Hashirama smiled, the pure, unadulterated envy that ran through him like a scyth every time he caught sight of him with Mito, the painful, all consuming longing he felt when they were apart. The irrefutable fact that Hashirama would never see him as anything more than a brother. **None of it ever got easier with time.**

Yet he still stayed. For the sake of the very cause of his misery.

Enduring the fearful and distant treatment of the very people he helped liberate from a cycle of death and war. Enduring seeing the face of his brother's murderer everyday, enduring having to communicate with his brother's murderer as though they were allies, enduring his veiled insults and cloaked criticisms.Enduring the taunts and stupidity of the council.All for Hashirama.

All so that he can see the very smile that is the cause of his misery. All so that he may glance into the stars that are Hashirama's eyes even if for a split second. All so that he can see the way his mouth crinkles when he smiles. All so that he can keep subjecting himself to something that kills him but without which he would be worse than dead.

He was suddenly ripped from his thoughts when he sensed a familiar chakra signature approaching behind him.

"Tobirama.""


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse any grammatical or spelling errors, this was typed with an iPhone.

Tobirama let out a long suffering sigh as he sensed a chakra he knew all too well ahead of him. Madara. There was little he could do to evade the black haired man other than turn back, and he was in no mood to reroute himself in the sweltering heat. He slowed his pace as he grow closer to the shorter man’s figure, confusion then realization filling his head as he noticed the expression on his face.

Loneliness was what he saw first. A deep, raw loneliness that the moonlight seemed to bring forth in his, now dark eyes. It was so authentic, so strong, so consuming that Tobirama almost felt bad for the man in question. Almost. 

Masked behind the painful loneliness however, ever so slight that anyone other than Tobirama would be blind to, was resentment. A resentment so strong it could light up the very air in the sky, so unyielding that it would burn anything in its path until nothing, not even ashes remained. 

Despite the twisting of disgust in his stomach and the feeling of his chest protesting as though he were being ripped open, he knew what he needed to do.

* * *

“ Are you going to stand around in the shadows all night Tobirama”, Madara heard himself say after noticing the younger Senju’s stationary disposition behind a nearby tree. 

Slowly, with his ever concise and graceful stepping, did Tobirama make his appearance to Madara. Forgoing his usual fur and amour ( a likely testament to the heat no doubt) for a light blue yukata, with his hair slick with sweat plastered to his neck, he looked little like the fearsome warrior he was, though Madara could say the same about himself at that particular moment. Tobirama was by no means ugly (as he often heard Hikaku exclaim, that traitor), but his beauty was no match for Hashirama’s. Where Hashirama’s features were warm and beautiful like the sun, Tobirama was cold and regal. Where Hashirama was soft edges and warm smiles, Tobirama was sharp lines and icy stares. 

It confused him many times, how two individuals different as night and day were brothers. At the thought of brothers, his body filled with rage at the person in front of him. The one who had cruelly taken the one person left in the world who loved him, away. It still plagued his nightmares. Seeing Tobirama lift his sword over Izuna’s battered body, being on the other side of the battlefield, being too late. He doubted there would ever come a time when he didn’t grieve for Izuna with as much intensity as he loved Hashirama.

”I see the heat hasn’t spared even fire style users” he heard his brother’s filthy murderer utter,in a tone sounding borderline civilized or maybe it was just the heat playing tricks on his mind. A “hn” was all Tobirama got in response as Madara turned on his heels and began walking back in the direction of the Uchiha Compound, in no mood to interact with Tobirama.

”It’s unfortunate, how easily the ones we so dearly love are so quick to hurt and cast us aside”, he suddenly heard Tobirama say, his voice steady but with an unmistakable tinge of poignancy behind it. 

Madara involuntarily stiffened. “Did he fucking know?”

Tobirama was a formidable opponent both on the battlefield and during a battle of the wits and Madara knew for a fact that if anyone were to realize his feelings for Hashirama it would be his calculated younger brother. 

“ It is also unfortunate however, when people allow their love to drive them to the brink of insanity, unfortunate and rather sad”, he heard the white haired man continue. 

“Indeed” he growled in response. He was fucked. Tobirama knew.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update, I’m so sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long school has been a real bitch. An extra long chapter to make up for lost time and spoiler alert shit gets real ( or at least starts to)

Madara seethed or that’s what he wanted to believe. He’d be loathe to think that anything that came out of Tobirama’s mouth worried him. How dare he! How he dare he even think to threaten him in that silver-tongued way only he had the utter gall to use around him. The implications of Tobirama knowing what possibly was his deepest desire were disastrous at best. Fuck, he sounded like a prepubescent girl. How could he have been stupid enough not to realize that by now someone would have caught on. 

It was just his luck honestly, that the man with Izuna’s blood on his hands was the one to discover it. Regardless of his poorly veiled threats something else worried Madara, a look in Tobirama’s eyes behind the smugness and weariness lay something that made Madara more nervous than he liked to admit and perturbed him more than the possibility of Tobirama running his mouth ever could. 

He knew the lengths Tobirama would go to protect Hashirama ( not that he needed it) and what Hashirama loved most: the village. He knew that Tobirama would eradicate would eradicate any and all perceived threats to the village with enthusiasm, and he knew for a fact that to Tobirama he was the biggest perceived threat to the village. 

Tobirama as usual was not wrong. Madara knew what was inside him. How it simmered ever so slowly until one day it would finally overflow and destroy everything in its path. However Madara also knew for a fact that the thing that kept whatever good that was left in him alive was Hashirama. Everytime he was plagued by thoughts of burning Tobirama alive as reprieve for the death of Izuna he remembered Hashirama’s broken expression after the death of one of his younger brothers (Itama, was it?) and extinguished any murderous intentions he held towards the younger Senju, if anything due to not wanting to see Hashirama fall apart over the death of his last surviving sibling.

There was yet to come a day where Madara could look at Tobirama without seeing Izuna’s blood dripping off in rivulets off his sword, the same color as his eyes, without feeling Izuna’s blood seeping into his clothes as he held him in his arms and watched the life fade from his eyes through choked sobs. He knew that it was war and that had Tobirama been even a second too slow it would have been him in Izuna’s place with Hashirama clutching his corpse, but still he could not bring himself to feel anything other than burning hatred and loathing towards the other man. Izuna has been his entire world and Tobirama had taken him away from him. 

What made this situation even worse was the fact that he and Tobirama were forced to be in each other’s immediate proximity for what seemed like every damn second of the day. Hashirama was thankfully also present but even his presence did little to make Tobirama’s existence tolerable. Until then the two of them at least tried (albeit pathetically) to pretend to be civil with each other, but Madara doubted that it would last much longer. He would oversee the sewerage pipes if it meant not seeing Tobirama, he’d go see Hashirama about changing his schedule. Still, that look in Tobirama’s eyes left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Things were not going to end well. 

* * *

The seed was planted. Tobirama saw the confusion in Madara’s eyes. This whole plan made Tobirama feel physically sick. But he knew unconventional as it was , that it was necessary to preserve the already fragile peace of the village. The very thought made him snort. Giving up his dignity and pride was necessary for peace in konoha, he wondered for the millionth time what his life had come to. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

He had no qualms about using corpses to further his knowledge. In the past, during the war he had had no qualms about cutting down whoever posed a threat to his clan. It was beyond him why he was starting to hesitate now. He needed to forget his newfound anxiety and strike quickly and before Madara had time to retaliate. This would probably end in one of two ways. The first being Madara ripping his throat out and causing Hashirama to scrape his remains off the ground. The second, more horrifying one being that Madara actually takes the bait and fucks him into his bed every night while pretending he’s Hashirama. Both outcomes were dismal and Tobirama felt that either way he was fucked (literally if the latter were to happen).

Before anything else Tobirama was a soldier, and like a soldier he fight on, no matter the toll on his body. The well-being of the village, the well-being of his brother ,was far more important than his pride and well-being. 

He was almost certain that Madara was going to keep as far away from him as possible in the coming day, which meant that’s he would probably have to leave his quarters hours earlier than usual to get Hashirama to spill the beans about Madara’s schedule so that he’s could stalk him like a pathetic teenager. It it weren’t for the probably pain he was bound to face, Tobirama would have found this whole ordeal to be hilarious, but with him caught in the middle of it all, Tobirama struggled to find the humor in it.

If by some miracle this did succeed, he was basically doomed to spend what was left of his youth as Madara’s whore, or maybe the other way around- being the only person who could to some begrudging extent see the longing and neediness for affection that Madara had, even if it was coming from the wrong brother.

The sun was already beginning to rise, he needed to get ready for what could possibly be one of the longest days of his life. Tobirama, by nature, was not much of a drinker, but still found himself reaching toward the still unopened bottle of quince sake that Touka had gifted him. “Just to edge the nerves” he told himself as he took a swig, immediately feeling the knots in his stomach slightly begin to loosen. He quickly stashed the bottle under his pillow ( he would probably need it tonight) and began to dress.

By the time he had finished dressing the sun had already completely risen. He had much to do, but first he had to go see Hashirama and make him tell him where Madara would be. Knowing Hashirama he would probably oblige, having tried so hard to try to get them to get along and having failed each and every time. He quickly made his way to the other end of the compound and rapped his knuckles on Hashirama’s door. He was probably still asleep. Tobirama knew better than anyone how much his older brother enjoyed and needed his beauty sleep. 

The sight of a disheveled Hashirama stumbling and opening the door was almost enough for him to crack a smile. Almost.

”Tobirama! Why are you here so early, you know how much I hate being woken up!” Hashirama pouted.

“ I wouldn’t have come unless it was important” Tobirama started, “ I need to know where Madara is going to be.” Hashirama’s expression quickly turned from one of exhaustion to a hilarious mix of horror and shock. “What did the two of you fight over now”, Hashirama whined, “ please don’t tell me you two had a screaming match in front of the elders again”, Hashirama went on, clearly beginning to panic. 

“No, nothing like that! Must you always expect the worst of us?” Tobirama snapped. “I just need to run through some construction plans about the academy with him, I’m not looking to throw him in a ditch,” 

Hashirama rolled his eyes, “ I know something happened with the two of you, Madara came here in the middle of the night demanding to oversee the sewerage pipes” Hashirama’s expression turned grave, “ I have long accepted the fact that the two of you will never hold any affection towards each other, but this village cannot survive or be built without the both of you. My dream cannot be achieved unless both of you are here to share in it with me.”

Tobirama called bullshit. He loved Hashirama more than he loved anyone else in the world but he knew deep down that Madara was the only one with whom Hashirama truly wanted to achieve his longtime dream with. 

He knew that it was him and Madara who had risked their lives as children to meet and envision a better life with. He knew that deep down Hashirama saw him as an extension of their father. A living reminder of the ghost of their father’s actions. The perfect soldier, that was what their father had made him into. His very existence was a reminder of the pain that their father had inflicted upon them, and for as long as Tobirama lived Hashirama would be reminded of the bloodshed and horror of their childhood, not quite being stuck in it but at the same time nevertheless truly being able to forget it.

Tobirama loved Hashirama more than anything or anyone and the world and all it contained. More than peace, more than the village, more than anything. While he used the peace of the village as an excuse for what he was going to do, he knew that in his heart, the village be damned he was doing it for his brother. For his brother’s happiness and well-being. 

Hashirama’s happiness and the village went hand in hand and Tobirama would sooner gut himself then let that cretin of a man ruin what Hashirama had fought so long and hard for. “ You don’t need to worry about anything”, Tobirama shot back, and with all the life in his body did he mean it.


	6. Author’s note

Firstly I would like to apologize for my inactivity with regards to updates, I grossly underestimated how much time finals would rob me of, to make things very clear I have NOT abandoned this story but I may have (unknowingly) overstated the regularity of my updates.

Never fear though and expect an update sometime this week. There’s still plenty of drama, sex and romance for our favorite duo ;)

Constructive criticism will be GREATLY appreciated as I sometimes can’t help but feel as though I’m doing the characters dirty with regards to proper characterization and dialogue. 

Finally, thank you to all loyal readers who’ve supported this trainwreck ( it will get better I promise) and look forward to more (frequent) updates.


	7. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, an update. Once again I apologize In advance if some of the content is ooc. Feedback is always appreciated. Just for reference:   
Ages in this fic:   
Madara/Hashirama: 27  
Mito: 25  
Touka ( you’ll be seeing quite a bit of her in the future): 28  
Tobirama: 21   
Hikaku: 22   
Kagami/Hiruzen: 12

Tobirama wrinkled his nose as he approached the sewerage site, the scent reminding him of Madara’s personality. It was just his luck, having to endure both the stench of shit and Madara’s shit personality all while getting roasted alive by the accursed heatwave plaguing them.   
The seed was planted. Tobirama had seen the confusion in his target’s eyes. He knew it was not long before his strange behaviors were noticed by Madara, but the thought did little to deter him. What he needed was not for Madara to remain clueless to him, but rather for him to interpret his actions in the way that Tobirama needed him to. Still, he would have to be meticulous with his plans, there was no room for fuck ups and mess ups, one wrong move and he was as good as dead. 

Tobirama was not naïve. He knew the chance of him being completely successful was minuscule at best. He had to tread carefully, working slowly and steadily till the Uchiha in question knew no other truth than Tobirama’s. He had no doubt that Madara would be at least skeptical of his sudden brazenness, that’s where Tobirama had to be flawless with his acting. 

He had sensed Madara’s monstrous chakra signature miles away, its size and ferocity having always morbidly fascinated him, not that he would ever verbally admit being fascinated by anything even associated with that demon, and to think people called him a demon when such obvious evil was left to fester in their very own backyard. To think his own brother was so blind as to think him more of a monster than Madara. Hashirama would never admit it but Tobirama was far from stupid, he knew what his brother thought of him, their father’s perfect soldier, good for nothing but tearing down enemies, an unfeeling beast with no other intent then to inflict as much pain and suffering humanly possible on his enemies. He could not fault Hashirama or anyone else for their logic, he himself thought just as poorly if not worse of himself. Still, no matter the depth of his self loathing, he knew he would never reach Madara’s level. This whole elaborate, humiliating ploy being utmost proof of that. 

For a second he considered turning on his heels and heading back to Hokage tower to resume his actual duties, leaving this ridiculous idea as just that. He quickly dismissed the idea. Tobirama Senju was many things but he was not a coward and he would rather be skinned alive then allow the likes of Madara Uchiha to bring forth in him anything even resembling cowardice. He steeled his expression into something between his usual look of annoyance he so often directed at Madara and something else... something softer. He felt the object of his visit approaching and swallowed back a lump forming in his throat (caused by worry, not fear- he told himself). This was the starting battle of his war, he could not afford to lose. For the sake of the village, for the sake of his brother, he could not, would not lose, even it cost him every shred of dignity and pride he possessed

The heavens must have a vendetta against him. How the hell had the insignificant Senju brother manage to find hi- Hashirama, obviously. He was in no mood to deal with Tobirama’s bullshit, it was humiliating enough having that filthy murderer know his deepest, most well kept (clearly not) secret and the fact that the white demon refused to let him be miserable in peace about it only made him more livid. He stopped his thoughts, he could be reading too much into Tobirama’s words, it was possible that he knew nothing about Madara’s feelings towards Hashirama, it was a tiny possibility, but still large enough to allow Madara to play the part of clueless. Madara let out a snort, as if, the damn motherfucker was too perceptive not to know, too deliberate with his words for them not to be a message, a promise, a threat almost. 

He steadied his breathing as he approached Tobirama, If anything to quell the murderous rage that all but consumed his very being when encountering Izuna’s murderer. “Hashirama, remember Hashirama” he silently reminded himself. So long as Hashirama was alive he would not lay a hand on Tobirama,would not subject him to what Tobirama had subjected him to. He let out a small huff at the thought. If only the man in front of him knew what a monster he really was, refusing to kill his brother’s, his baby brother’s murderer out of fear of hurting the one person (left) that he loved. For his entire life Izuna had been center of his universe, his one source of reprieve from the cruel world they lived him. Madara had always thought, had always taken it as a fact, that he would be the one to enter the spirit world first, the thought of Izuna dying before him never even entered his mind, not until Izuna lay bleeding out in his arms. Izuna’s death had almost been his breaking point, he still did not know how he dealt with the loss of half his soul without taking his sword to his throat. Looking back he thought that that vulnerability, that loss had opened something in him, that allowed love, a feeling he all but considered a disease, to so strongly enter his entire being. To burn him with flames strong enough to dull the burning of sorrow and rage. To fill him with a completely new brand of emotions, to destroy him so deeply but also to heal parts of him he didn’t know he had. To invoke feelings ranging from pure, unadulterated affection, uncontrollable lust and deep despondency in a matter of seconds, all while becoming lost in Hashirama’s eyes. 

Madara let out a sigh as he realized that he had (for the umpteenth time) allowed his thought to traverse dangerous paths in public. He could pine later, in the darkness and comfort of his room, for now he had to dispel of the pest currently just feet away from him. 

“What do you want Tobirama?” He bit out in a voice that sounded borderline tired even to his ears, the oaf had a weird look to his face, but Madara dismissed it to the heat, he’d never really seen Tobirama’s face in anything but an image of neutrality or his customary Madara-directed scowl. Either way he wanted the man gone and he wanted him gone fast, which for Madara meant hearing whatever bullshit he had to say and then sending him off on his merry way to do whatever it was he did.

“I’ve been looking for you, Madara, I owe you an apology”, the white haired Senju started, his voice carrying an uncharacteristically genuine tinge of sincerity. Whatever he had expected, this was not it. “My behavior last night was downright rude and far beyond the lines of propriety, it will not happen again” he continued his voice almost ... sheepish? Carrying the most amount of emotion Madara had ever heard the other man express. Was he drunk? It was so unlike Tobirama to apologize for anything. Was the heat getting to his head? 

Too caught up in his own thoughts Madara failed to respond until he noticed the expectant (was he hallucinating?!) look in the other man’s eyes. Willing himself to swallow down any remnants of his earlier rage, because if Tobirama of all people was being civil, Madara would not give him the satisfaction of having him explode at him, and looked the bastard straight in the eye. “ Alright, if that is all I have work to do, good day Senju” Madara all but spat out, mentally admonishing himself for being unable to remain collected in Tobirama’s presence. 

Tobirama shot a look at him, as though he expected Madara’s response but with entirely something else laced into it, something that resembled disappointment. Now he was really confused, what in the fuck was going on with Tobirama? He’d shown more emotion in this 2 minute interaction than Madara had seen him show in all the years they’ve known each other. Madara slightly shook his head , he was overthinking as usual, the bastard probably over indulged in alcohol, probably looking for some semblance of refreshment in the face of a record breaking heatwave. 

He was suddenly broken out his thoughts by a soft “ Have a pleasant day Madara” in a voice that was anything but the venomous, acidic tone he used to. He supposed alcohol did that to you, although he showed absolutely no outward signs of drunkenness his behavior was too strange to be anything but drunken or at least tipsy rambling. 

Madara did not know how mistaken he was.


	8. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like I’ve mentioned in the tags this will be a very slow burn so the pacing will also be extremely slow, just an fyi.
> 
> Also we’re digging into Hashirama this chapter which is something I’ve been really excited about doing, his character is always a pleasure to write and I hope I’ve done him justice also we finally meet Touka!!!!!!!!!!

Tobirama felt like a thoroughbred fool. Clearly things were going to be even more difficult than he had anticipated (if that were even possible). If one weird look from Madara’s demonic eyes was all it took for him to subconsciously reduce the conversation from a few minutes to 2 sentences, then he really had no hope of even attempting to trick the man in question, let alone seducing him. It was pathetic honestly, how he had refused to run away, unwilling to let Madara invoke cowardice in him but being unable to banish it away in the man’s presence. Not only was this a significant blow to his (already) nonexistent self respect but also a significant drawback to his overall plan. He had to cut his losses and he had to do it quickly.

As he lay in bed, taking swigs of his previously stashed sake, Tobirama’s slightly tipsy thoughts drifted to his father. Tobirama let out a bitter guffaw, he would be so ashamed to see his most proficient soldier playing the part of a glorified ( if even) whore. Batsuma would have his head if he knew he was trying to worm his way into the Uchiha head’s bed, justification be damned. Once again he felt disgust well up in his gut, a heavy, burning feeling lodging itself in his innermost being.

He felt a wave of irritation towards himself, why was guilt choosing to plague him now of all times? He had used his body countless times, albeit not in the way he intended to with Madara, but nevertheless he had used it countless times before. To tear down his enemies, to fight for his clan, to protect his family. He had used his body to fight without any worry and guilt over collateral damage, why should he worry now about the moral damage? This was all so confusing. He could overthink more the next day, for now he needed to forget and for the first time in his life reach a stage commonly known as “piss drunk”. 

Hashirama was beginning to panic. It was already well past midday and he hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of Madara or Tobirama. He shuddered to think of what could have possibly transpired between them to render both of them absent. He prayed that it had at least not resulted in broken or removed limbs. The two of them, regardless of their animosity had never, at least outside of the battlefield, ever come to blows.

Ordinarily, Hashirama wouldn’t worry himself about the possibility of this, but something about Tobirama’s demeanor earlier that morning worried Hashirama, he had looked like a man readying himself for war. He could only hope that neither of them had done anything irreparably damaging, be it to each other or the newly built village. In his heart of hearts Hashirama ached. Ached over why two of the lights of his life, two of his brothers one in blood and one one in everything but blood hated each other with the strength of a thousand burning suns. Hashirama knew he was being ungrateful, that he was perhaps already too privileged and jaded by the recent accomplishment of his childhood dream that he once could not even dare to utter, that he was nitpicking minuscule threads off the silk web of everything good that was realized in his life. 

It inflicted him with more pain than any jutsu or physical attack ever had. That the two of them would never see each other as more than enemies, first as enemies in the battlefield during a war that they had ended together and now as enemies during the newly achieved era of peace. What made him feel like even more of a selfish bastard was the fact that he knew that their negative opinion of each other (he couldn’t bear to say hatred) was not without good reason. Wartime or not Tobirama had killed Madara’s last and most beloved brother ( something he would never in a thousand years fault him for because he knows for a fact that if he hesitated for even half a second, it would be him in Madara’s place and Izuna in Tobirama’s) and Madara had not forgotten whose sword his brother had fallen on. 

Most of the time, Hashirama looked the other way when passive aggressive insults started flying like senbon between the two men, trying his best to get them to quit it but at the same time not admonishing them, knowing that their bone deep grudges towards each other would not manifest into anything more than verbal squabbles, because they themselves had worked painstakingly in creating a place where the Uchiha and Senju were not enemies. He knew that neither of them would do anything to undermine the already fragile state of peace that was achieved after such a spanning era of bloodshed. He had faith in them. In both of them. But for some reason, even the sun in the sky looked ominous with their shared absence.

“Why the look of misery?”

Hashirama yelped as his eyes took in the sight of the source of the words. “Touka!Why do you always sneak up on me like that? Hashirama pouted, “You know how I get when I’m deep in thought”. 

Touka let out a chuckle, “I wasn’t aware you knew how to think little cousin” she let out as she patted his head, “What’s bothering you, you look like someone’s burned your house down. 

Hashirama let out a suffering sigh, if anyone could understand his concern it would be Touka. Being older than both him and Tobirama she had in a way adopted the position of the pseudo maternal figure during their childhood,an era where most mothers birthed children and engaged in battle in equal measure resulting in legions of untimely demises and legions of children (soldiers) left behind,regardless of being barely older than them herself. 

She and Tobirama had always been especially close, both of them being caught in a perpetual whirlwind of surprise at having actually survived as long as they did in a time where passing the age of 18 was an anomaly. She was also well versed in the art of talking sense into Tobirama and having him actually pay heed, something Hashirama himself failed in more often than not.

“It’s Tobirama and Madara, I think they had some kind of confrontation and I think it was bad, neither of them have pitched up for any of their charges and it’s well into the afternoon, I’ve never even heard of either one of them skipping anything before today” Hashirama let out. “I’m worried that one of them went too far”

“Tobirama and Madara are two of the most sensible Shinobi in konoha, I doubt one of their petty skirmishes led to anything more than a few rounds of passive-aggressive bickering they’re both probably just pissed” Touka shrugged out “This damn heatwave and all the construction setbacks that’ve come with it have all of us on edge, this morning I nearly took Torifu’s eye out for misspelling a word, they probably just let it out on each other and are now too tired or too annoyed to bother to deal with anything, it happens Hashirama.”

“Can you honestly blame me for being concerned? It’s always something or the other with them, I can’t help but worry about it eventually erupting into something dangerous” Hashirama let out, weariness lacing itself into his voice “ You’re probably right, but I still can’t help but worry about them. Could you go and check up on that brother of mine? I’ll go and make sure Madara wasn’t mauled by my brother’s summons”

Touka let out breath “Fine, but I’m definitely going to say I told you so when we find them fucking around in their houses or passed out.”

“That doesn’t sound like either of them and you know that”

“You’d be surprised”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed the addition of a third POV instead of me just going back and forth with Madara and Tobi


	9. Chapter 7

Madara’s fingers ached with each stroke of his pen. He felt sweat pour down his asshole. His head was beginning to throb with the beginnings of a migraine, be it a result of dehydration, exhaustion , stress or all three, Madara was unsure. The white-haired bastard would probably regard it as a sign of his impending insanity he thought dryly.   
After his confrontation with Tobirama, if one could even call it that, Madara had decided to retire to his quarters in the Uchiha compound to try to complete the ever growing pile of paperwork lying on his kitchen counter, rivaled in height only by the stack of paperwork in his office at the tower. It was a pleasant change of pace, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been at his house in the middle of day. 

Madara supposed he could cease worrying over Tobirama running his mouth after he’d seen that the man was no better than a drunken mess. He still had an uneasy feeling that had firmly planted itself in his gut but that was his default reaction to Tobirama in general, Madara was not above admitting to himself at least, that Tobirama was smarter and craftier than him, so being perpetually cautious of and around him would not be foolish. Tobirama was not one to pick fights, he knew this from experience, Madara himself had always been the instigator of whatever screaming matches or arguments the two of them had been involved in, had always been the one throwing insults and hurling curses first. Even when he was made by Hashirama to tag along with them to oversee or approve some thing or the other he’d always minded his business and kept to himself.

Madara hissed as he got up, feeling a sharp pain in his backside from sitting down for too long, the pain drawing his thoughts, as everything did, to Hashirama.

After the day he’d had, he owed this to himself. At first he had felt revulsion and shame at the thought of using, of defiling his memories of Hashirama like this, but as time had passed and realization of the severity of his plight set in, Madara found it increasingly harder to care. Slowly Madara set himself onto his bed, propping himself against the wall to steady himself. He closed his eyes and slipped his hand past his waistband and gripped his already half-hard cock. He circled the head of his member with his calloused thumb and bit back a groan, he imagined Hashirama between his legs, his cheeks flushed and stretched, his mouth full of Madara’s now throbbing cock. Hashirama would be a gentle lover, more eager to satisfy his partner than himself, so eager and so mindful of Madara’s needs. Madara began stroking himself earnestly now, trying his best to bite down his moan, his walls were thin and he really didn’t need any of his family members listening in on his pathetic wanking session. 

Once Hashirama was done using his mouth on him, he would gently place him on his back and begin opening Madara up with his glorious (monstrously large) fingers all while whispering sweet nothings into Madara’s ears. Thrusting and playing around inside him until he found the spot that made Madara scream. He’d stretch him open until Madara was begging and moaning like a bitch in heat for him to just fuck him already.. Hashirama would’nt relent so easily at first, he’d want to make sure Madara was completely prepared, not wanting to even risk hurting his beloved (oh how he could dream) even in the slightest. He’d give in eventually, but not before capturing Madara’s lips in a searingly gentle kiss, claiming his mouth with equal parts ferocity and tenderness. Madara was close, he could feel the unmistakeable build up of an orgasm in his abdomen, his strokes were becoming erratic and it was becoming impossible for him to bite back his moans. Hashirama would line himself up with Madara’s greedy hole, entering him inch by inch till Madara could feel his balls press into the skin on his ass  
His legs were near trembling now and his stomach burned as though a million fire ants decided to sting him in unison . Hashirama’s thrusts would be gradual at first, but would eventually progress to ruthless pounding, relentlessly attacking Madara’s prostate with every other thrust, until all that could be heard was the cacophony of their screams and moans. 

Madara's orgasm hit him like a Katon Jutsu to the chest and for a second he swore he felt Hashirama inside him through the starry haze of his release. A floating sort of drowsiness that he had become pathetically acquainted with filled his head as his shaking limbs grew heavier and heavier until finally his glazed eyes began to drift closed and his bulk fell back first onto the damp linen of his bed. 

A sharp stabbing pain in his side roused Tobirama from a sleep he did not remember succumbing to. With a groan that was not unlike one of a dying goat, he propped himself up onto his elbows where he bemusedly noticed that he was not on his bed or even in his bedroom, but rather on the porcelain of his bathroom floor. Red pooled his vision as he felt blood flow down his abdomen and registered the shards of a broken bottle littered around his bathroom or wedged into some (many) unlucky parts of his body.

So that was what had happened. He had passed out drunk, for the first time in all his 21 years of being alive and on his bathroom floor no less, and almost impaled himself with a broken sake bottle. Fucking hell he really was spiraling. Deep, hot shame painfully flooded his senses as he, almost on reflex, thought of what his father would say (or do) seeing him in such a pitiful situation. Butsuma Senju’s threshold for weakness of any kind was nonexistent and Tobirama had to even his breathing and remind himself that the man was dead and not coming back. 

This would not do. There was no use dwelling on the past and it’s mistakes (no matter how recent). It unnerved him a great deal knowing that such minuscule reactions from Madara invoked such a reaction from him, and it terrified him realizing that the Uchiha clan head had such power over him, with the smallest of his reactions setting Tobirama so off. In the past, his encounters and altercations with Madara resulted in nothing more than him punching his training dummy slightly harder than usual, and that was on the worst of days. He could not afford any missteps or hesitation now. He could not afford to become afraid. He would not allow himself to become afraid and weak. He was the White Demon of the Senju clan and he would not let some bushy haired cockroach hinder him or his careful planning even in the slightest. He had to be strong, for the sake of the village, for the sake of Hiruzen, Koharu, Homura, Kagami and all the countless other children who did not deserve to be thrust into a life of war and loss, for Hashirama. He had to. 

A firm knock on the hardwood of his still polished mahogany door diverted his attention, the familiar simmering grass like chakra signature immediately gave away the source of the noise, Touka. He stumbled to the door, trying and failing to avoid any glass shards and ignoring the still steady flow of blood now drenching his clothes. Had it been anyone else in the world, Tobirama would have rather dropped dead then gave them in such a humiliating predicament. Touka had been the most constant maternal figure in his life, his own mother having died when he was 9 and his stepmothers after her not faring any better. With a quick yank his door opened, exposing his room to the full might of overbearing noon sun. Several consecutive flashes of white and sharp pain assaulted his head and nearly blinded him in the process. With a pathetic groan unbecoming of someone of his stature he gestured for Touka to come inside and slammed the door shut with as much strength he could muster. 

Touka promptly took in his appearance, gave him a quick once over and then promptly realized that her cousin was hungover as fuck. 

“This is new” She drew out slowly, “ I thought you don’t drink. Ever.”

“That’s rich coming from the one who gave me a rather generously sized bottle of premium quince sake the minute I turned 20” Tobirama retorted but without any bite to his words. The action causing him to wince at the rawness of his throat. 

“Strange as this may sound, this is actually a relief. Hashirama thought you and Madara mauled each other to death. I’m assuming something did happen with the two of you, something big if it drove you to get drunk over it, but by the looks of things I don’t think any bodily harm was afflicted on you, at least by Mardara.” she stated, giving his glass sliced and bloody clothes an exasperated look. “Hashirama went to see what the deal with Madara was, he was on the brink of a psychotic break when both of you didn’t pitch up today.” 

“It’s quite irritating that so many people think that if we’re left together for we’ll tear each other’s throats out. Wasn’t the whole point of this village to forget past grudges and move on together to cultivate a peaceful existence for ourselves and future generations?” It genuinely upset Tobirama having to lie through his teeth to someone so dear to him. Fuck forgetting past grudges. True peace could only truly be achieved with Madara’s mutilated corpse buried in a grave Tobirama could piss on. 

“Hashirama will worry no matter what, and you know it. He loves the both of you beyond measure. “

Oh Tobirama knew. He knew that his brother was blind to everything about Madara except the disillusioned image of him that he had created and clung on to. 

“Get yourself and your room cleaned up, repair the literal shreds on your torso and eat something for fuck’s sake. If you don’t I’ll know. There’s a meeting tonight about something Hyuga related and you’re expected to be there. I’ll let Hashirama know that you’re fine, he doesn’t need to know the details.” Touka let out in one breath and gave a swift peck to Tobitama’s cheek before leaving and for the millionth time Tobirama felt a surge of gratefulness for her. It would only worry Hashirama if he knew that Tobirama felt the need to turn to alcohol for the first time in his life. 

The meeting tonight was a perfect opportunity for Tobirama to strike. Madara would inevitably be there, giving him a chance to act. He had to set things into action tonight. 

Dull thuds vaguely registered at the back of Madara’s mind as he slowly drifted to consciousness. A small stretched across his sleep heavy features as he recognized the signature behind his door. 

Slowly he stretched out his limbs and rubbed the grogginess away from his eyes. His feet hit the wooden floor with a dull thud as he padded his way towards the door to let his sunshine in. 

The second Hashirama caught sight of his face he breathed out a huge sigh of relief.   
“Thank heavens, you’re alright” he let out in a voice too closely bordering that of a worried lover. It’s like fate liked playing cruel jokes on him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Madara replied, slightly puzzled at Hashirama’s words when it finally registered that he had completely vanished from the outside world since the previous day. “I just wanted to catch up on paperwork” he let out with a shrug, “I must have fallen asleep” he lied. 

“Madara did something happen with you and Tobirama?” Hashirama asked in a uncharacteristically serious voice. “I haven’t seen him today either”

Madara was about to reply in the negative when a strange thought flitted through him. Madara wasn’t a gossip by any means whatsoever but Hashirama was Tobirama’s brother wasn’t he? He at least deserved to know about his brother’s secret vices didn’t he? (Fuck that he just wanted Hashirama to know what a fuck up his precious, demonic brother was) 

“Yes actually. There is no easy way to tell you this, I know how proud you are of Tobirama. Perhaps I shouldn’t tarnish your high opinion of him but I feel that you at least have a right to know.” 

Hashirama looked like he was going to burst into tears. It tugged on Madara’s heartstrings but it really was necessary. “Please just spit it out Madara, you’re making me nervous.” 

“Tobirama has a drinking problem.”


	10. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve updated but with school and this whole corona virus pandemic situation things have been a bit chaotic. I think this is the longest chapter that I’ve written so far so that’s nice and I’m so so sorry if this story seems to be dragging without even reaching its first major plot point, I promise that this is the last chapter without anything majorly plot related happening. Also please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors this was written on an iPhone.

It took every single ounce of self restraint that resided in Tobirama to keep him from teleporting to the Uchiha compound and bashing Madara’s head in till his insides were his outsides. Tobirama had never thought of Madara as stupid, but this was reason enough to cite his judgement as bullshit. It was probably in his best interest that Madara had so grossly misinterpreted his behavior but it made the blow no less humiliating. Of course Madara would gleefully grasp at any and all opportunities to try and stain his brother’s opinion of him, the same way Tobirama would spare nothing, not even his own well-being, in trying to control that animal. 

Hashirama, who clearly was trying to rob him of his title as the fastest shinobi in the world, unfortunately made it to his quarters in record time and managed to see the consequences of Tobirama's weakness in their full glory. He almost collapsed over his own feet with the sheer hysteria with which he then proceeded to heal Tobirama’s semi self- inflicted cuts. After the smothering concern came the telling off that Tobirama was waiting for. Tobirama was too drained to even attempt to explain that no, he did not in fact have a drinking problem and that Madara was delusional. At least Hashirama's voice was kinder than the one in his head. 

Hashirama was still nagging. Over thirty minutes later. Fuck Madara. All he had wanted to do was clean himself up and sleep off his hangover until the (probably pointless) meeting that evening, but Lady Luck seemed to have a vendetta against him. Tobirama felt his levels of irritation rise by the second. Hashirama’s tone had steadily changed from anger to irritation to worry to a tone of genuine concern that Tobirama was certain he was not worthy to even be in earshot of, let alone have directed to him. 

“Tobirama, perhaps you should take a break of some sort for a few weeks, I’ve seen the way you’ve been running yourself into the ground. . Even Madara was worried about you turning to alcohol to cope. Please let us help you, I know how much you hate asking for help but you need to understand that we care for you, that we love you Tobirama. You need to take care of yourself!” Hashirama’s voice was becoming more and more urgent with each syllable. It was worrying, Madara’s prowess in lying. 

“Anija, please calm down, Madara is mistaken. Nothing is bothering me, tell Madara that having the occasional drink is not one of the signs of alcoholism and that he should mind his own business. I wasn’t even drunk when I spoke to him, you know his opinion of me and yet you still heed his slander of me.” Tobirama’s voice came out angrier than he intended with an unfamiliar note of raspiness that could only be contributed to his hangover. 

Hashirama’s eyebrows knitted together tightly enough to make him look ten years older and his eyes carried a look of defeat that somehow managed to dull the general exuberance of his face and for a moment Tobirama felt as hollow as a water gourd.   
He was inevitably going to play his most important card that night. Everything that took place after that depended on his success.   
In a more gentle tone this time, “Anija nothing is the matter. I just had one, isolated moment of weakness, and I’m sorry that it worried you and Madara (ha) as much as it did. There is no need for it to happen again and it will not happen again. I’m sure that you have more pressing matters at hand, Touka told me about the meeting regarding the Hyuuga clan and you know how pesky those pale eyed bastards can be. I suggest you prepare in excess, heaven knows that you’ll need it.” Tobirama made sure that the change in subject was subtle enough to fly over his brother’s head.

Hashirama lifted his hands in a mock surrender “Fine, I’m going, and don’t forget that I’m not the only one who has to be subjected to the pale eyed bastards tonight Tobirama, make sure you’re early.

That at least managed an eye roll from Tobirama, “I’m the fastest Shinobi alive Anija, I’m never late,” Then with a masterfully aimed kick with his good foot to the backside, Hashirama was ejected from his residence and the door slammed shut. All Tobirama wanted to do at that moment was pass out until his skull crushing headache subsided.

Madara was really so full of shit. If by some oddly placed miracle his schemings did bear fruit he would make sure that Madara paid for this, even though the method of punishment would inevitably be something that Tobirama was unfamiliar with. A lone thought crept into the crevices of Tobirama’s mind and a small grin overtook his features. Why leave it to chance and luck? He could make Madara suffer now and in a way cruel enough to grant him utmost glee while at the same time not defying the pledge he had made to his brother regarding Madara. Fuck sleep he had work to do. He slammed his poor door open once again and ordered the first person he saw to inform his genin team as well Kagami Uchiha to congregate at his house immediately. This was going to be immensely enjoyable. He owed it to himself, this was likely his last afternoon of peace till the day he or the bushy haired shithead died. He might as well take advantage of it. 

Madara was not an immature person, he really wasn’t. But tattling to Hashirama about Tobirama’s theatrics made him immensely happy. He would grasp at any opportunity to try and sabotage Tobirama and this was one of his victories. His head felt calm, and light and his limbs moved without the touch of heaviness he was so used to. “Humiliating people you don’t like really does wonders to your health” Madara thought to himself as he approached the gates of the Uchiha compound. The meeting wasn’t for a few hours and he was in a good enough mood to want sweets. There was a small cake shop in the market that he had been meaning to try and today was as good a day as any other to do so. Suddenly a small blur of raven hair and excitement knocked into his side. The blur, which he recognized as one Kagami Uchiha lay sprawled on the ground, an annoyed expression adorning his face as he tried to claw his way back to his feet. Madara let out a small chuckle and extended his hand to haul the boy up to his feet.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” He asked the boy, not particularly interested in the answer. 

“Tobirama-sensei wants to see me as soon as possible! I bet he’s finally decided to teach me the water dragon jutsu.” The boy excitedly yapped.

Tobirama had recently decided to train Kagami along with his (poor) genin team and every word out of the boy’s mouth since then revolved around “Tobirama-sensei”. And while Kagami showed signs of growing into a talented Shinobi, Tobirama’s interest in Kagami and his training never sat well with him, biased or not. As the Uchiha clan head, his permission was inevitably needed in order for Tobirama to formally take Kagami under his wing. He begrudgingly consented, not doubting Tobirama’s prowess as a Shinobi, but not without drowning the man in a torrent of terms and conditions. If Madara even caught the slightest scent of foul play with regards to Kagami’s training he would put an end to Tobirama’s presence within breathing distance of the boy, and the three other unfortunate genin subjected to him. 

Regardless of how strongly he felt towards Tobirama, he tried his best to conceal all ill intent of the man from Kagami. Grudges aside, Tobirama was still Kagami’s mentor and the Uchiha clan (especially its head) were not ones who encouraged insubordination towards one’s teacher. As a result Madara swallowed the remark at the back of his throat and placed a hand on Kagami‘s shoulder. “Well, you’d best be back on your way then, it’s rude to keep your elders waiting.” He remarked at the boy who flashed him a gremlin-looking grin before bounding out the gates. Madara vaguely wondered what was so urgent that Tobirama had called for his students on a day that no training was scheduled (yes, he had memorized Kagami’s entire training schedule and what of it?). This wasn’t the first time he had erratically called for them so he didn’t ponder on the matter too much, the bastard probably just enjoyed overworking his students as much as he enjoyed overworking himself. He really didn’t care. He had cake to eat.

Madara liked mangos. Madara really liked mangos. Tobirama knew this from Hashirama’s many ramblings about the Uchiha head and his interests. Hashirama never ceased from soiling Tobirama’s ears with boundless amounts of useless information about the man in question and although it had irritated Tobirama to no end at first, he had come to realize that Hashirama’s loose tongue would be of great assistance to his future endeavors. 

The tiny piece of land behind Tobirama’s quarters, his “backyard” if one could even call it that, consisted of a porch large enough to fit two people sitting shoulder to shoulder, a tiny chamomile pot plant and as fate would have it, a large mango tree struggling to stay upright under the immense weight of its fruit. 

The sound of excited footsteps was what managed to break Tobirama out of his trance of self-satisfaction. His students had finally arrived. Impatient pounding on his front door (presumably Kagami’s, the boy was extremely excitable) prompted him to step back into his “house” to let his helpers in. 

Excited chatter filled his normally forlorn house as all four genin bounded inside like hungry animals. 

“I’m telling you Saru, today is the day sensei finally teaches us the water dragon Jutsu! I can feel it in my bones.” Kagami (very loudly) exclaimed. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, we haven’t even been on a mission yet so why in the world would Tobirama-sensei teach us his specialty so quickly?” Koharu, the voice of reason among the four of them, replied 

“Way to be a party pooper” Kagami pouted. 

Tobirama snorted at his student’s enthusiasm. The four of them were remarkably talented for their age but it would undoubtedly be a while before he could even think of introducing them to his technique, especially because none of them were suiton users. They would have to stick to helping him pick mangos now, he really didn’t feel like doing it himself with the headache that he was nursing. 

Once he led them into his backyard the quartet stared unimpressed at the mango tree and then at him. 

“Sensei, you are aware that we’ve mastered our chakra control enough to walk up trees?” Hiruzen said confusion marring his features. 

“I’m well aware of that Saru” Tobirama replied with a laugh “but that isn’t exactly what I called you here for.” 

“Sensei, wouldn’t it be best to go to a training ground then?” Homura asked, his face wearing a similar expression to that of Hiruzen’s. 

He expected the four of them to be extremely bemused at that day’s “training session” but nevertheless he needed them here to help him acquire the fruit and distribute the fruit. “Not all of a Shinobi’s responsibilities and workload consists of active combat, as I’m sure you’re all aware of by this stage” Tobirama started “ and I’m afraid that I have neglected to properly instill that particular principle into you lot hence the surprise lesson today.” He pointed at the comically large tree and continued “ The four of you will have to pick every single mango from this tree within the hour and then distribute it accordingly. A very important part of being a shinobi is being willing to do menial physical tasks for the aid and betterment of your village, so I expect no complaints from any of you with that regard. I’m sure that none of you are the kind of Shinobi who would shirk their duty to their home village.” Although he was using them for his own personal gain Tobirama’s words were far from being lies, even as a Shinobi during the warring clan period his duty was not limited to being in the front lines of battle. Many a time had he found himself scouring trees for lost animals or hard at work at his clan’s grain fields. Either way this would be a decent exercise for his students. 

He gave his students one final nod and disappeared back into his house to mix the herbs that would make his little revenge scheme effective and to dig around his jumbled cupboards to find a half decent looking basket of some kind.


	11. Chapter 9

“That tree is unnaturally huge, Sensei” Hiruzen panted as he set down the last of the mangoes on Tobirama’s cracked floor, the only surface in his house large enough to seat the more than impressive hoard of mangoes his students had spent the last hour picking. They had admittedly done a more than admirable job, having cleared the tree of every single one of its bearings. 

“You all did well” Tobirama praised as he and Hiruzen made their way back outside to join the rest of his weary team, Tobirama’s arms laden with a tray of daifuku that one of the old ladies at the market had sold him as well as a pitcher of water, which he didn’t doubt would be much appreciated. “Rest for a while to gather yourselves, your work isn’t done yet” he said as he set down the tray on the grass in between where Kagami, Homura and Koharu lay sprawled. 

His ears met with the sound of a symphony of enthusiastic “thank yous” as he turned around to proceed back inside to put together Madara’s “ gift”. The basket he had found was inconspicuous and had an old red ribbon, which had probably belonged to Touka at some point, tied to its handle. He bent down to the floor and began inspecting the fruit that lay before him. His poor students still had a lot of distributing work to do he thought as he took in the sheer abundance of mangoes. 

Eventually he picked out four of the fattest, ripest and sweetest smelling ones and his heart ached to have to give up such decadence to the bastard that was Madara. He chastised himself for the thought, after all, the sweetness of the mangoes on Madara’s tongue wouldn’t last half as long as the effects he would suffer from devouring them. Tobirama picked up a tiny syringe filled with a clear, scentless liquid he had managed to derive from a plethora of semi lethal herbs, and injected a few drops into three sides of each mango. There would no escaping this for Madara. Once Tobirama had made sure that each fruit was sufficiently laced he neatly arranged them in the basket and tied the ribbon into the prettiest bow he could manage. 

No one would suspect him in the slightest. Why would they? The effects would be uncomfortable and irritating, in no way lethal and most of all would not be unheard of as a side effect of overindulgence. He placed the basket aside and yelled for his students to come back inside. Regardless of Madara,, he still had a shit load of fruit left to sort and have his students distribute, hopefully well before his meeting was slated to begin.   
He set aside a generous amount of the gold and red fruit for Hashirama and Mito, Touka was not particularly fond of fruit but she was fond of making alcohol so he would have to have some sent to her quarters. Hikaku Uchiha was rather partial to sweets if his memory served him correctly (which it did) so he set aside a generous amount for him as well, he was fond of Hikaku and didn’t fancy accidentally “poisoning” him. He would have to be extra careful with his instructions to Kagami with regards to which package went to which clansman of his. He packed more than generous portions for each of his four students and their families, a reward for their hard work. He made a final bundle for the owner of his favorite sashimi restaurant and mentally allotted the rest of the fruit to the hokage tower to be shared among its staff.  
Homura was charged with distributing the fruit to whomever it was due to within the Senju clan compound. Tobirama had taken pity on his significantly fatigued appearance.  
Koharu was dispatched to the market to deliver the fruit to the restaurant owner and Hiruzen was given the largest package to deliver to the tower. That left Kagami as the one with Madara’s tainted mangoes and Hikaku’s untainted ones as his charge.   
“Remember Kagami, the basket is for your clan head, the smaller bag is for Hikaku-san and the larger bag is for your family” Tobirama specified. The boy nodded determinedly and let out a too loud “ I won’t let you down!” as he sprinted in the direction of the compound gates, his teammates, save for Homura, following suit. 

Once Homura had begun to make his way towards Hashirama’s house, Tobirama turned back into his. He had to ready himself, the chance of him achieving success in a single attempt was slim but he had to nevertheless be prepared. A slim chance was a still a chance. Between his realization of what he had to do to contain Madara and now, Tobirama had probably scoured over every single erotic and sex related book present in Konoha. His sexual encounters with both men and women were severely limited and the last thing Tobirama wanted was to be unsure of what to do if his plan went smoothly and he would have to sexually engage with Madara. 

He stalked into his bathroom and wrenched open the single cabinet that was situated above his wash basin, he gave the contents a quick once over until his eyes finally found what they were looking for, a medium sized glass vial filled with an amber colored oil. Regardless of his lack of proper sexual experiences with men, Tobirama knew, with just his knowledge of anatomy, that some kind of lubricant was needed in order to properly carry out anal sex with minimal pain and physical damage.He doubted Madara was the type to engage in foreplay, or even properly prepare his partner for what was to come, likely in favor of more hurried, aggressive fucks at the expense of his partner’s pleasure or comfort. Tobirama’s threshold for pain was abnormally but that did not mean that he wanted a ruptured anus. 

Tobirama generously coated his fingers with the oil and climbed into his bathtub, splaying his rather long legs forward in an attempt to try to maneuver himself into a semi comfortable position that allowed him access to his asshole. He had read in one of the more informative erotica novels that the anus should be stretched open gradually and slowly, especially if it was one’s first time dabbling is such activities. 

He brought up a single oil-slicked finger to his entrance and slowly began rubbing slow circles on the tiny ring of muscle. Slowly, almost tenderly, he slipped it inside, his hole barely providing any resistance, and began moving it in a slow, piston-like motion. The sensation was unusual but not unpleasant, although he felt no pleasure either. He continued with the single finger for a few minutes until he felt as though his insides were as loose as they could get from a single digit. The intrusion of the second finger in his now puckering asshole was not as easy as the first finger although that much was no surprise to him. The ring of muscle burned as the second oil-slicked finger entered him and met the first finger inside him. With more than one finger inside him, he began moving his fingers in a scissor like motion to help loosen up his impossibly tight asshole. He continued fingering himself with two fingers at a steady pace until he felt his fingers brush something inside him that ripped a quiet moan from his throat, he had found his prostate. He hoped Madara was well endowed enough to reach his prostate, as he expected absolutely no other pleasure from the man. With a shaky breath, Tobirama began rubbing and prodding at the bundle of nerves in earnest, nearly hitting his head on the wall at the raw sparks of pleasure overcoming his senses. His neglected dick was beginning to spring to life at the onslaught of his prostate and he began stroking at it idly with his free hand. 

The third finger entered him with as much discomfort as the second and he wasted no time in utilizing all three of his fingers in the abuse of his prostate. He bit his tongue to swallow his increasingly loud moans and began stroking his now fully hard cock in long, slow strokes. He hadn’t meant for this to become a full blown masturbation session but Tobirama found that recently things had hardly ever been going according to plan. 

Tobirama came hard enough for his vision to swim with black, with three fingers still in his puckering hole. Tobirama pulled out his fingers from his now slippery asshole and clambered out of his bathtub. He hoped that three fingers were enough to accommodate Madara’s girth. He mind was foggy with post orgasm afterglow as he stumbled about in his bathroom trying to clean himself up. He stared at his reflection and had to admit that he really was not looking his best. At all. 

His skin, while usually very fair, was now sickly pale and blotchy and the fine lines adorning his forehead and temples made him look far older than his 21 years. Purple and almost bruise-like bags adorned his under eyes and his sclera were bloodshot and red, nearly matching his irises. His lips were chapped and grey with dried blood caked in the corners and a small spattering of blemishes marred his jaw. For lack of better words he looked like absolute shit. Tobirama more often than not ended up barely having time to eat or sleep and his bad habits were clearly taking their toll on his appearance. He wouldn’t be able to seduce a farm animal let alone Madara, although he supposed Madara was no better than one. 

He needed to get himself looking at least borderline presentable if not to try and enrapture Madara, then at least not to pitch up to a council meeting looking like a corpse. Generally speaking, Tobirama barely gave his appearance a second glance, he was never one to indulge in tedious beauty regiments and the only semblance of any non-hygiene grooming that he engaged in was using a lavender scented oil in his hair when time granted him the opportunity, which in his case was probably biannually. 

He scoured his bathroom cabinet, scrutinizing each product in hopes of them helping him out of his current predicament or at the very least reducing it. Nearly everything in the god forsaken cabinet was gifted to him and as a result the uses of most of the contents were unknown to him. Fuck his life honestly. He fished out a still unopened box of some kind of soap and brought it to his nose. The contents didn’t smell like much and were probably suitable for facial use, but then again Tobirama wouldn’t really know. Regardless he wasn’t particularly spoiled for choice and he desperately needed to at least slightly improve his ghastly appearance, all the Madara business aside, it would bruise his reputation immeasurably pitching up to a council with the Hyuuga clan looking like a piece of rotting dog shit. He gracelessly ripped the soap from its packaging and opened his tap letting the cool liquid wet the brown blob of soap that wasn’t unlike a dried turd in appearance. He rubbed the soap between his hands and was decently surprised to note that it gave off an impressive lather. He brought his hands up to his face and began scrubbing it with motions likely too aggressive for one’s face. Once he was content with the amount of scrubbing inflicted on his dehydrated pores he gently brought a wash cloth to his face and wiped his face clean of any soapy suds. 

His face looked exponentially cleaner and fresher but unfortunately for him did nothing to improve any other facet of his dwindling appearance. He rummaged through his cabinet once again, all the while cursing himself and simultaneously reminding himself to take a trip the market place the following day to invest in some beauty products. By some blessed miracle his eyes fell on two products laying forgotten at the back corner of the highest shelf, right behind his oil lubricant he wryly noted. He grabbed the items in question and a sick kind of relief begin to let its way into his chest. The first container contained a light skin colored powder together with a dusty puff looking applicator of some kind and the second, smaller container contained a pitch black waxy like substance meant for lining eyes. He could work with this he thought to himself as he began unscrewing the lid of the powder.

Madara let out a sigh of contentment as he approached the Uchiha compound. It had definitely been a good decision to try out that cake shop, his stomach was still practically singing from joy and although his stomach was almost painfully full his mouth watered at the memory of the heavenly strawberry tart he had indulged in. He made a mental note to take Hashirama there the next time they decided to get food together, if anything just to see the man he loved shake with excitement. 

There wasn’t much time until he had to report to the tower for that no doubt headache inducing meeting scheduled. The Hyuuga were powerful, rich and full of shit. It would most likely be a long, uncomfortable meeting with veiled threats, insults and insinuations being hurled left, right and center. He never looked forward to council meetings but having to deal with their particular brand of bullshit invoked a very specific type of dread in him. 

As he approached his house he spotted an unfamiliar basket on the hardwood of his entryway, which to his delight was filled with four of the most beautiful mangoes he has ever seen. At closer inspection he noticed the basket had Senju specific artistry and an all too familiar warmth filled his chest, the Senju compound was filled with legions of different types of fruit trees, courtesy of Hashirama. He found a giddy smile making its way into existence on the planes of his face as his heart swelled with affection at Hashirama’s thoughtfulness. At least now he’d have something to look forward to after the shitshow he going to be subjected to.


	12. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for huge delay guys but school has been a huge nightmare and my mental health was not the best for a while. I’ll try my best to keep a somewhat decent posting schedule and If I don’t please feel free to yell at me in the comments.

The Hyūga clan, although arguably Konoha’s wealthiest and most powerful clan, was frankly also its most problematic and politically tricky clan and Tobirama found himself questioning more than once whether they were more trouble than they were worth. The Senju and Uchiha clans had limited interactions, feuds and outright battles with the Hyūga clan during the warring states era, less because they had peaceful relations with the clan and more because they were too busy fighting one another to pay them any attention more than the occasional political marriage or roadside scuffle. But now that that particular piece of history had ended, both clans had been able to focus their attention more clearly on the Hyūga clan and had somehow managed to find common ground with one another regarding their deductions of them. In short one of the first subjects that both the Senju and Uchiha clan agreed on was that the Hyūga clan was insane. The Uchiha, with their strong sense of familial duty had found the Hyūga clan’s curse mark and glorified enslavement of their kin nauseating and the Senju clan although less overzealous about the topic were very much inclined to agree.Hinami Hyūga, the current head of the Hyūga clan had to be Tobirama’s least favorite person in Konoha, even more so than Madara, who was a close second For all his many, many faults the man at least did not torment his own family. 

Having the blasted woman’s clan join the village had been a painstaking and unfathomably long and tedious process that was still ongoing. It had taken months of meetings and correspondence just to establish the basic terms of their allegiance to Konoha and meetings regarding some problem or condition of theirs were still taking place monthly, especially since the clan had left their ancestral home and taken residence in the newly built Hyūga compound ( the negotiations regarding that were something Tobirama would much rather forget). His irritation at the woman was at an all time high considering that by some unlucky turn of events he had managed to end up sitting beside her for this particular meeting and had to hear her ramblings mere inches from his tortured ears. The issue at hand was something about private training fields for the Hyūga outside of their compound and Tobirama could barely find it within himself to pay attention to the discussions taking place. He glanced over to Madara at the one of the seats opposite his and made no effort to try and hide his obvious visual scrutiny of the man. Madara’s side profile was rather attractive and Tobirama found his eyes traveling down the pale column of Madara’s throat. Tobirama wasn’t petty enough to deny Madara’s obvious attractiveness and some part of him actually hoped that if everything went according to plan and Madara didn’t katon him into the next life, that he could perhaps even benefit from rolling in the sheets with such a handsome man. 

Tobirama’s love life and sexual experiences up to and including his current shenanigans were pathetic and limited to say the least. He’d had sex with two women and given approximately one man a sloppy handjob behind some shady inn when he was a curious teenager. His love life was in an even worse state considering he had never been in a relationship nor felt any romantic feelings towards anyone save for a very, very mild crush that wasn’t even much of a crush towards Sasuke Sarutobi, who was coincidentally seated next to Madara. It wasn’t that Tobirama didn’t have needs or went through periods of time where he felt extremely horny, in fact he went through phases like that rather often considering his raging twenty one year old hormones, but he did a good job of hiding it and dealing with it himself (with his right hand). 

Madara wasn’t even noticing his current attempt at trying to “seduce” him, too preoccupied with glaring murderously at Hinami Hyūga, so Tobirama updated his stare from subtle leering to outright leering which did little to bring Madara’s attention to him but which did succeed in drawing Sasuke Sarutobi’s attention towards him. Tobirama, ever the intellectual quickly diverted his stare and shot a half smile in the Sarutobi clan head’s direction.

Tobirama never anticipated living past the age of eighteen and consequently never even gave marriage or courtship a second thought, thinking that his only experiences with either were set to come from a political or arranged standpoint. Tobirama had never even considered the idea of having a relationship borne of out of genuine feelings instead of obligation until he had met Sasuke Sarutobi. It would be a massive overreach to say that he was in love with the man, but after many months of stolen looks and long conversations Tobirama had come to care for him and for the first time in his life allowed himself to envision a future where even he had someone to cherish, the way Hashirama cherished Mito and even the way Madara cherished Hashirama. Realistically speaking the Sarutobi clan head was a good match for him, aside from stemming from a powerful clan with no previous tensions with the Senju clan, he was barely ten years Tobirama’s senior having, like so many others, been married and widowed at the onset of adulthood. He was sensible, intelligent, remarkably handsome in a rugged sort of way and most importantly not mentally unhinged. The way Tobirama had sometimes seen him look at him also confirmed that the interest wasn’t one sided . But alas all hopes of developing any sort of non-platonic relationship with the man went flying out the window at the speed of light once Tobirama had begun to formulate his plan. It was not uncalled for to say that it was well deserved, after all he should know better than to have such high expectations.

Madara felt the younger Senju’s stare burn holes into the side of his face and pointedly resisted the urge to turn his face towards the white haired fool and return the favor only with a thousand times more intensity. He really did not feel like dealing with both Tobirama and Hinami Hyūga’s bullshit during the course of one meeting and held himself back from turning around, at this point in time, unbelievably so, Hinami was the greater of the two evils and therefore the one he should be projecting his anger towards. From the side of his eye he spied Sasuke Sarutobi send a smile in the direction of Tobirama and internally gagged. This wasn’t the first time he had seen him act like this towards Tobirama, it was obvious that he was besotted with the younger Senju. Sasuke was the most bearable village head and Madara more than tolerated him so it disturbed him greatly to discover that he harbored feelings towards the most nauseating person in Konoha. Unsurprisingly to him, Tobirama didn’t seem to reciprocate any of the interest displayed by Sasuke, Madara doubted that Tobirama was even capable of harboring affections towards anyone.  
Finally, when Hinami basket-case Hyūga decided to stop trying to goad him and rather turn her attention towards some poor Nara soul, Madara turned around and let his gaze meet Tobirama’s. Instead of initiating a scathing stare down, like he had during many meetings, Tobirama embarassedly tore his gaze from Madara to the cracked wood of the table. It took Madara a good few seconds to register the strange reaction, and his brain unhelpfully supplied that the scarlet eyed man looked strangely flustered. Madara immediately banished the thought. He was probably drunk again, after all his eyes did look rather glassy and his pupils seemed larger than usual. Madara internally scolded himself for even sparing Tobirama a thought about, and turned his attention back to the disaster of a meeting. At least he had mangoes waiting for him at home. 

The night air, although humid and dry, felt the slightest bit soothing on his hot skin as he made his way out out of the hokage tower after hours of sitting in a cramped, stuffy meeting room. His cheeks were ruddy and flushed and his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his sweaty skin, his physical appearance accurately mirrored his mental state after that nightmare of a meeting and even the thought of mangoes did little to lift his mood after nearly six hours of enduring Hinami Hyūga’s theatrics and Tobirama’s drunken antics. Evidently his night was about to get exponentially worse as he belatedly sensed an infuriatingly familiar chakra signature tailing him, and that too just as he reached the gates of the Uchiha compound. Madara choked down his (immense) irritation and willed himself to calm down, the quicker he dealt with Tobirama, the quicker he would able to return to his house, his mangoes and an ice cold bath and clean clothes. 

“There’s no need to stalk me like some depraved criminal, what is it that you want?” Madara said in Tobirama’s direction. 

Slowly, the taller man emerged from the shadows and a small flash of jealousy sparked through Madara over the fact that Tobirama didn’t even look half as disheveled as him, even drunken and after a six hour meeting in a scorching, overcrowded room. His skin looked pale and smooth with nearly no evidence of the hot weather (or intoxication for that matter) and his lips were smooth and not nearly as parched and dry as Madara’s. He didn’t dwell on the matter too much, Tobirama was six years younger than him so it shouldn’t shock him that his appearance was more refined than his own. 

“I need to speak with you.” Tobirama replied and Madara resisted the urge to grab a fistful of the Senju’s hair and yank it until Tobirama had a big, fat bald spot.

“Speak then.” Madara replied sarcastically, doing his very best to swallow his violent urges. 

“I’d prefer if we could speak in private Madara, I’m afraid that some of what I’m about to tell you is rather sensitive information.” Tobirama said in a tone more polite and soft than Madara had ever heard him use before. 

If Tobirama was being civil he wouldn’t embarrass himself by repaying that with rudeness. Instead he took one last deep breath and beckoned the man to follow him through the gates of the Uchiha compound and in the direction of his house. 

Surprisingly every single aspect of Tobirama’s plan was currently going decently smoothly. His stomach was uncomfortably clenching from nervousness as he followed Madara through the compound. This wasn’t Tobirama’s first time in the Uchiha compound, he’d been numerous times before, mostly just to escort Kagami home after late training sessions, but never before had he been so deep within the compound and he certainly had never been to Madara’s house before. 

After what seemed like hours of trailing somewhat awkwardly after Madara, the clan head finally stopped in front a huge house and slipped his shoes off before sliding the door open and stepping in, leaving the door open for Tobirama to come in, Tobirama quickly kicked off his sandals and awkwardly made his way inside. As usual when it came to executing his schemings, his senses were overwhelmed with nervousness and hesitation. He took three deep breaths in and tried to focus on his surroundings instead of his nervousness. Tobirama’s house was the size of a dollhouse compared to Madara’s and Tobirama took a minute to admire how well kept it was. He was also pleased to spot a very familiar basket of mangoes on the low table of what Tobirama assumed was the living area. A very fake sounding cough brought Tobirama’s thoughts back to the task at hand. 

“It’s late and I’m on the verge of a heat stroke, what do you want?” 

The sound of Madara’s voice increased Tobirama’s apprehension and he had to stop himself from bolting out the door. With one final, deep breath Tobirama finally mustered enough willpower to speak. 

“I need you to know that whatever I’m about to say isn’t a drunken prank or mistake, in fact your entire hypothesis about me being an alcoholic isn’t even true. I wasn’t drunk that day Madara, I was nervous.” Tobirama spewed out, faster than he would’ve liked but with an impeccably even voice. 

Madara raised an eyebrow. “Did you really come here to bitch about the fact that I told your brother you were day drinking?” 

Madara was a bit slow so Tobirama reiterated. “No that isn’t why I’m here Madara, and I’ve already told you that I wasn’t drunk that day at the sewerage site.” Tobirama said while maintaining eye contact with Madara and slightly biting his lower lip. 

“Then please just get to the point of whatever it is you’re trying and struggling to tell me.” The raven haired man exasperatedly retorted. 

Tobirama was getting more and more panicked by the second and finding it more and more difficult to remember the lines he had so carefully come up with for this confession. This would not do. He could not chicken out. In a rare moment of impulsiveness,Tobirama braced himself to deflect a physical attack and threw caution to the wind. 

“I know about your feelings for my brother Madara, I’ve known for a long time.” 

Never in his entire twenty one years of life had Tobirama ever witnessed a more hideous look in anyone’s eyes until that current moment. Before he could even properly register the extent of the man’s rage, he was pressed by the throat against the wall of Madara’s living room. Had he been a lesser man, Tobirama’s body would’ve been ripped clean through the wood and his throat would’ve been crushed to a powder. 

“What the hell are you talking about you miserable little cunt, do you have nothing better to do than to come here and spew nonsense!” Madara yelled and a fresh wave of fear crawled through Tobirama. 

“I didn’t come here to make light of your plight or humiliate you” Tobirama wheezed out, “Quite the opposite really, considering I’m in a similar situation myself.” 

“I don’t need anyone’s pity Senju and I especially don’t need yours.” He hissed. 

“You really don’t get it do you?” Choked out Tobirama. “I didn’t come here to blackmail you or to taunt you about your situation, Madara I have feelings for you.” 

Madara’s grip on his throat slackened and Tobirama used the sudden influx of oxygen to carry on speaking. “I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way and I certainly don’t know how it started but I can’t go on ignoring and suppressing my feelings for you Madara, I fear it might kill me.” 

The look on Madara’s face at that exact moment nearly sent Tobirama into a fit of laughter. Confusion, disbelief, shock, disgust and rage all married together to form the most hilariously frightening expression Tobirama had ever seen someone’s face wear. 

Tobirama took advantage of Madara’s weakened grip and state of shock and flipped their positions such that Madara was now the one pushed against the wall with Tobirama’s arms around his muscular waist. Tobirama was half a head taller than Madara and in that position Madara looked deceptively petite. The space between their faces nonexistent and Tobirama could feel Madara’s warm breath on the side of his neck. 

“I know that I could never even hope to replace Hashirama in your heart but I can’t help but think that a physical relationship will be beneficial to us both, It may serve as a kind of illusion for both of us and perhaps may even distract us from the turmoil of our hearts.” Tobirama whispered huskily, his voice taking a tone he didn’t even know it capable of taking. “I want you to fuck me Madara,” Tobirama whispered breathlessly and closed the distance between them.


	13. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy the Chapter and l hope it was worth the ridiculously long wait. Also this fic turned 1 on the 30th of September and I just want to mention how grateful I am for each and every one of you and your support. <3

For a split second Madara was stunned into numbness for perhaps the first time in his entire life. As he felt the other man’s lips sloppily move against his more and more erratically and felt an arm firmly pull him forward by the waist, he was struck by the horrifying thought that as far as kisses went this wasn’t close to the worst he had experienced. It was only when Tobirama’s hands travelled down to squeeze his ass that his mind fully comprehended what was happening and with whom it was happening and within a second he had Tobirama pinned by the throat on the ground. 

A new kind of anger coursed through every blood vessel in his body, a kind of anger that made him so painfully livid that bile rose in his throat and every part of him trembled and shook. 

“What kind of game are your trying to play Senju! How dare you lay your filthy hands on me and presume to have even the slightest inkling of what I’m going through! I’ve always known that you feel nothing but somehow you’ve still managed to shock me with your level of depravity.” Madara was breathing heavily now and with every word tightening his grip on the other man’s rapidly bruising throat. 

“Clearly we aren’t verbally compatible in the slightest, but physically we could be breaking beds and leaving each other cross eyed, all of your aggression towards me could be so, so much better spent.” Tobirama wheezed out and to emphasize his point ground his hips upwards onto Madara and let out the filthiest moan he could manage in his predicament.

“I’ve never slept with another man before, not properly at least, won’t smearing my chastity feel cathartic Madara,? I’m all loose and ready for you, I fingered myself open before the meeting, I was tight as a vise, I bet you’ll feel so good having my ass suck your cock.” 

Tobirama’s sudden brazenness had Madara at a complete loss and for a split second his grip faltered once again, allowing Tobirama an opportunity crash their lips together once again, this time hard and violently. He sunk his teeth into Madara’s lip hard enough to draw blood and began lapping up the metallic liquid as it began flowing down Madara’s seductively slender and pale neck. He looped his right arm around Madara’s neck and pulled him down so that their chests uncomfortably rubbed against one another and he could hear Madara’s hoarse breaths. 

Madara vaguely registered his dick beginning to harden and was stricken with the horrifying fact that Tobirama Senju was the one eliciting the reaction out of him. All Madara had wanted after six hours of torture was to return to the comfort of his home, take a cold bath and devour the basket of mangoes he had found on his doorstep but as usual all luck had abandoned him and instead he was on the hardwood floor of his living floor trying to grapple with an insane Tobirama Senju who was sucking and biting on his lips and neck like his life depended on it. 

It had been so long since Madara had slept with anyone that every brush of Tobirama’s skin against him sent a jolt of arousal straight into his groin. It was a natural biological reaction to having an attractive young man rub himself against you while simultaneously trying to make out with you. Madara was not proud of what he did next. 

Sometimes Tobirama impressed even himself and even he had to admit that things were going so much more smoothly than he had anticipated and planned for. Madara seemed to be going through varying degrees of shock and disbelief, rendering himself almost numb while Tobirama swallowed every drop of disgust building in his chest and tried to enthusiastically kiss him. Madara’s lips, although stiff and unresponsive, were soft and full and oh so delightful to bite and abuse and lick and Tobirama may or may not have found a sick kind of arousal in drawing blood from them. The Uchiha head’s grip on his throat became almost nonexistent and his burning lungs began filling with oxygen. Tobirama almost thought Madara had passed out with his eyes open when he felt a growing bulge press against his thigh. This was almost too perfect, all that was left was for Madara to act on his hard on instead of pulverizing Tobirama. Tobirama’s apprehension of what was to come had long faded into the haze of lust that had begun to steadily cloud his mind. Suddenly, he felt a steady pressure against his groin and realized that something far more frightening than death was happening: reciprocation. 

Tobirama wasted little time in allowing his mind to divulge into the ramifications of what was happening, there would be time for regret and shame later. For the moment he was solely intent on having Madara eat him alive and spit him, until Madara was so addicted to it that his mind would be filled only with the images of him naked and on his back. Tobirama did not expect to understand nor gauge how deep and consuming Madara’s feelings for his brother were. At the end of the day Madara was a just a man, an unimaginably powerful and gifted one at that, but nevertheless flesh and bones and twisted desires and a mind that was not impenetrable. As the pressure on his groin began to move, Tobirama was becoming more and more certain of his first proper victory.

Madara had finally decided to kiss him back, wasting no time in yanking his head up toward his sleeps and pulling his hair in a way that only fanned the flames in his gut. His teeth were sharper than they looked and after a disgracefully short amount of time Tobirama began unabashedly groaning into his mouth. Both of their breathing was ragged and strained and blood and spit flowed down both their chins and necks in a way that might’ve been repulsive in any other situation but only managed to add to their feral lust in their predicament. 

Having grown tired of ravaging his mouth, Madara moved on to his neck and began biting and licking and bruising and making Tobirama’s toes curl up in pleasure. Steadily, his actions began to pick up and speed and within a few moments Madara was all but gnawing against his neck, drawing blood and the filthiest of noises from Tobirama. Tobirama spared half a thought to how he’d hide his nearly mauled neck but his mind quickly became hazy with need as Madara’s hands began to make their way under his yukata and into his quickly tightening pants. There was no gentleness in the action but Tobirama was almost surprised by the fact that Madara at least took enough care to rip his balls off. Madara’s hand was rough and calloused in a way that made his strokes and pumps exceptionally tantalizing. Tobirama did little to hide the sounds he was making embarrassing as they were. He had already lowered himself unbelievably and irrevocably so in Madara’s eyes, he had no reason to even feign shame or bashfulness.  
Everything was falling into place perfectly, almost too perfectly and when Tobirama finally, through his heavy cage of pleasure, managed to give Madara’s face a proper look he realized why. 

While Madara’s body was more than preoccupied and present in making Tobirama moan like a bitch in heat, the expression in Madara’s eyes or rather lack thereof made Tobirama worried enough to snap himself out of his cloud of ecstasy. It almost seemed as though something had possessed Madara, his eyes bore no expression and his face was nearly void of any expression, save for his bloodied, bottom lip caught between his two front teeth as some sort of anchor. 

Generally speaking Tobirama could not care less about whether Madara was mentally present or not in what was currently happening but unfortunately his plan depended on Madara actually knowing and remembering fucking him so Tobirama tried to intervene and get Madara’s (questionable) head back in the game. His face stung and his lips and neck ached and were swollen enough to hinder his voice into a breathless, rather lascivious tone.

“As much as I’m enjoying your prowess with your hands Madara, I feel rather bad over the fact that your cock hasn’t been relieved of anything as yet, it’s hard as a rock I can almost feel it trying to impale my thigh. Be a darling and do something about that won’t you? Ive grown rather ravenous for the main course after all this teasing.” 

That seemed to slightly do the trick and Madara finally met his gaze, his eyes now carrying some semblance of presence. A beat passed without his expression changing and then his eyes darkened and his lips curled to bare his sharp teeth. The look in his eyes sent a weak shiver down Tobirama’s spine and although it perturbed him he still considered it better than the blank expression he had previously wore. At least now he’d be somewhat present. 

“You’re going to regret the moment you ever decided to confront me Senju. To be entirely honest my opinions of you have never been even slightly favourable but even then you never struck me as such a whore. Laying flat on your back and begging me to fuck your virgin asshole like my life depends on it.” Madara let out a strange chuckle “I’m going to enjoy tearing you in two.” 

With a quick manoeuvre Madara turned Tobirama onto his stomach so that his ass was slightly in the air and his face was pressed against the hardwood of his floor. Madara didn’t even let a millisecond pass before he had Tobirama’s pale ass exposed and hauled him to his knees with his ass now completely up in the air. Tobirama’s cock strained painfully against his abdomen as droplets of precum began dribbling slowly down his abdominal muscles. 

“This makes a pretty sight doesn’t it? The infamous white demon on his hands and knees waiting for me to mount him. You’re so much more appealing like this than when you’re running your mouth” Madara let out in a low voice before bringing both his hands down on Tobirama’s well sculpted ass. Tobirama made a sound half resembling a moan and half resembling a hiss and the proceeded to jiggle his now pink ass in an almost invitation for Madara to repeat his actions. 

Madara grabbed both of Tobirama’s ass cheeks and spread them apart, smirking at his tiny, pink ring of muscle. “Oh fuck, I’m really going to enjoy breaking into this.” 

Tobirama let out a full body shudder at that, and to his chagrin he couldn’t even attribute it to the weather. He just hoped that he hadn’t bit out more than he could chew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to interact with my me via my tumblr my username is seohyun0306


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